Lure of Chaos
by Lashana Inferno
Summary: ....::eyes fic::.....::bashes it with Frying Pan of Doom::.... What might have happened if Xellos had wanted the title of Chaos Knight. Oneshot.


  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A/N - Uh.... prepare yourselves my friends, some freaky shit is about to go down. All I can say is that my plotbunnies must be smokin something in order for them to place this in my head. Is a short ficcage of what might have happened if Xellos decided that he wanted the Chaos power. O.o 

This is partially inspired by Lady Dementia's fanart. (Link posted on account page) I say 'partially' because somehow my mind is at fault for this. 

Disclaimer: Lashana-sama owns nothing except herself. 

Warnings: Um.... everything. Xellos.   
  
  
  
  


***   
  
  


The Lure of Chaos   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They think me one of their own. 

To think that it had been so easy to gain their trust. They never once thought that such a threat would come from within their group. The elf, the sorceress, even that lumbering hulk of a 'Bonded'. So blind. Only mortals could be so blind to the darkness that walks among them. It's so easy. 

I was made to hurt and corrupt and kill. I was brought here to bring darkness into this world. I love the darkness. Most people can't see the the darkness, can't see that something evil is lurking and stalking in the shadows. They can see me though. But they think I'm one of them. They think they're safe. 

They're wrong. 

Her Darkness calls to me. Touches something inside myself. Tugging. Pulling me to her. 

I want that Power. I crave it. I want to taste it, to revel in it and to bathe in her blood. Yes, blood. Warm stickiness that flows over pale flesh and silksoft skin. It doesn't matter whose it is. Blood is blood, it all tastes the same. Sweet metallic life that flows through my fingers and over my tongue, soaking me in crimson death. 

Even now, she smiles at me. Bright blue eyes framed by snow-white bangs, hair like purity itself. And yet darkness lurks just beneath that innocent exterior. Just like the darkness that surges and roils and crashes behind my endless facades. 

It calls to me. 

I want it. 

Trust is something I can manipulate. I'm very good at it. Twisting and tearing and rending at beliefs and hopes, corrupting them into something I can use. She falls for it. Misplaced trust is so useful. 

It's no secret that I feed on negative emotions. Hatred, anger, pain, sorrow, agony, each is like a delicacy that must be drawn out and enjoyed, each a different flavor that rolls through me and sends shivers of delight up my spine. I play with my food. The longer those dark emotions are drawn out, the longer those mental screams echo through the shadows, the better they taste. Like moonlight over blood that drips from pale flesh and gathers in a pool at my feet. 

I can almost taste it. She's so close, so unguarded, so trusting. I can smell her. She smells of sunshine and lilies and thunderstorms. Such boundless life. And yet, it holds such darkness. I can smell that too. It smells like cold winter sweeping over sunshine dappled meadows. Of death dealing ice and metallic hatred treated with the spicy scent of death and fresh blood. 

She looks to me to teach her how to control the Chaos, and I watch in carefully hidden delight as golden black power flows over her form. Golden tresses cascade over slim shoulders, small cat-like fangs peeking out from behind full lips, golden slitted eyes meeting my own amethyst gaze, a single golden eyebrow arching up towards her hairline in innocent curiousity as she gazes at me. 

We both know the tale of the Chaos Knight. The Avatar to L-Sama who must always fight to keep their title. Whoever kills them gains their Power. But she doesn't even suspect anything from me. That's her first mistake. 

And her last. 

Before she can utter a sound, I rush towards her, the dagger in my right hand sinking hilt-deep into her stomach. 

Suddenly pale lips part in a gasp of pain and surprise, and I grin as I dart into the distance between us and capture her mouth with mine. She bites my tongue as I try to invade her, and I smile at the pain, enjoying the taste of my blood mixed with her strawberry flavored delicacy as I twist the dagger in her belly, moaning in pleasure when her blood rises to coat my tongue. 

A mewl escapes her throat as I pull away and lick at her lips and then my own, smiling when she whispers my name in horror, those brilliant golden eyes beginning to turn flat and lifeless. Blood flows over my hand, soaking my glove and sleeve and dripping down to our feet. I love it as I caress her pale skin, pulling the glove off of my left hand with my teeth so that I can feel the silky softness of her skin, caressing and stroking and licking as I stare into her wide open eyes, watching as the life slowly drains from her. 

My name is on her lips as I jerk the dagger from her flesh, then reach into the wound with my right hand, smiling as her Darkness flows over me. A scream tears from her lips. Scream, scream, scream, and I laugh and laugh and laugh, my questing fingers reaching up and up and up to cup her wildly beating heart. 

Her delectible darkness washes through me, into me, the Chaos leaving it's broken vessel and entering into my own dark soul, melding and merging, and I suckle on it like a newborn, pulling it into myself until nothing remains but the waning light of shattered crystal life. 

She falls into my arms, and I laugh as I run my left hand over her pale face, revelling in the soft caress of her flesh against mine, the sweet ambrosia of her broken mind and dying spirit. This is what I love the most. Being able to feel and watch as my darkness destroys the soul of my victim. This is what I do. What I am. And I love it. I crave it. My only regret is that mortals die too quickly. 

The elf's heart is still and unmoving in my hand, her eyes glassy and unseeing, her hair limp and flat against her skin, and I inwardly chastise myself. I always forget to draw things out. To savor the kill. Shaking my head, I drop the corpse, letting it splash down into the pool of blood that encircles me, my head tilting to the side in wonder as I watch her white tresses turn crimson, watching as her last once of pureness is drowned out by my actions. 

Her friends barge into my little party, all horrified and wondering how I could have betrayed them. 

Silly mortals. How can you betray someone that you never swore loyalty to? 

Laughing, I raise my arms, the Chaos power that I had taken from the elf gathering around me in a blaze of Darkness that I had only dreamed of. It feels like being born again, it feels like ecstasy, it feels like the greatest sex possible. Drugged, I turn my newly golden gaze onto the terrified and angry mortals before me, a wickedly evil grin spreading over my bloodstained lips as I throw my head back and let the Chaos loose, bathing in their screams as it overtakes them all. 

I am pain and blood and horror and agony. 

I am Xellos Metallium. 

I am Chaos. 

And I want more.   
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
